Italia!!!

At the close of a week during which North Korea flexed the muscles of her imperial might by lobbing a half-dozen missiles and one resounding dud into the sea of Japan; a week during which the civilized world exulted as the Italian national soccer team claimed its fourth world cup title with a thrilling victory over those godless Jacobin marauders; a week during which Americans the world over renewed the fires of patriotism by filling the air with fireworks and expending enough gunpowder to blow large portions of continental Europe to Kingdom-come--at the end of such a week, dear Reader, you have come once more to this Inn of high entertainment, to this house of repose from a turbulent world--where an amiable hostler delights one and all with tales of mirth and wonder, where a magnificent repast of delectable anecdotes soothes the aching stomach and cheers the weary heart, and where the grape juice of philosophy flows like popsicle juice down Julia's dirty chin. In short, you have come to take in the latest installment of our illustrious Review, and we here highly resolve that you shall not be disappointed.

Monday (3 July 2006):
Julia renewed her acquaintance with a bear, a pig, a new house, and sundry other balloons of a more passe variety as she and Justin attended Day 2 of the annual hot air balloon festival, coincident with the celebration of our national independence. We tried in vain to present Julia with a family home evening lesson on America's role in history and prophecy but had to content ourselves with showing her pictures on the internet of various founding fathers and singing a half-dozen rounds of "Yankee Doodle" as well as rebel classics like "When Johnnie Comes Marching Home" and Union ditties like "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" (including the unforgettable verse about John Brown's body, which, according to our latest cable, still lies a-mouldering in the grave).

Tuesday (4 July 2006):
Justin woke up in a patriotic mood and promptly donned his Italy soccer t-shirt. He and Julia took in the third and final episode of Balloonfest before the whole family undertook a lengthy journey to University Avenue where we watched the Independence Day parade. When we had had all we could take of ardent but mediocre high school marching bands, politicians in convertibles (Governor Jon Huntsman, who ran along the side of the road in an audacious pink shirt, slapping high fives and beaming grins of untrammeled ebullience, was a more active exception), floats carrying beauty queens whose smiles indicated a happiness altogether incompatible with such unnatural movements of the hand and arm, and the superior showmanship of the local highway patrol, we tried to accept an invitation to visit the home of Richard and Claudia Bushman for cookies and lemonade. We found, however, that on parade day, it really is impossible to get from one side of town to the other--even when one's destination lies less than ten blocks away. So we aborted that mission and came home for popsicles. In the afternoon, our visit to Grandma and Grandpa's just happened to coincide with the airing of a World Cup semifinal match between Italy and Germany. The Azzurri scored a dramatic 2-0 victory with two thrilling goals in the final minutes of the second overtime session. We spent the evening singing patriotic anthems while the neighborhood rocked to the convulsions of screaming rockets all around. It was a glorious holiday, our only regret being that we had thought too late of the possibilities of charging people to park in our driveway for the parade (the local scouts sold out the church lot across the street at six GWs a vehicle).

Wednesday (5 July 2006):
The ladies of the house were visited by Suzann Davies (no relation, so far as we know, to the late brilliant Canadian novelist, Robertson Davies) and her young son, Thomas. As always, Julia was thrilled to have a male guest. Not wanting Thomas to feel awash in a sea of estrogen, however, Julia played the part of "one of the boys." So successfully, in fact, did she play this part that the hearty slap on the back which she gave Thomas as a gesture of good will nearly crushed the poor boy's nine-month old spine. Eli, embarrassed at her sister's lack of refinement, confined herself to a favorite corner where she drooled lustily.

Thursday (6 July 2006):
The feminine triumvirate (an oxymoron only to those who know Latin) made their way to Springville to join with aunts Jeni and Rosalyn--and, more significantly, with cousin's Jacob, Emi, and Andrew--in the venerable pastime of making gingerbread cookies. Jacob and Julia were each presented with a clean sheet of dough from which they were to make fashionable gingerbread cut-outs with tools supplied for the purpose. They proved miserably incompetent, their sheets of dough looking in the end like the hapless double-victims of Edward Scissorhands and Friday 13's Jason. But a great time was had by all.
Friday (7 July 2006):
Justin spent the day in Salt Lake with the seminar fellows where they toured the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers museum and visited the Church Archives. Justin’s favorite relics at the DUP museum were a chunk of bread used in the sacramental ordinance at the Salt Lake Temple dedication and a “bloodstone” carried by Brigham Young when entering an unknown or dangerous place.
Meanwhile the ladies had quite a day. Julia received attentions from the only real love of her young life, James Chilton, who brought his mother, Josie, along to bid farewell to the little lady before the Chilton family departs for a new position in Virginia. Unbeknownst to poor James, he was preceded by a new rival, one Simeon Thomas, a strapping (if short) young man, whose father, Ryan, is one of Justin’s fellow seminarians and whose mother, Brenda, made Lia’s acquaintance in Relief Society last Sunday. While the Chiltons were over, Jini and Kinsi were once again drawn inexorably to the Collings household—nothing at all of interest taking place anywhere else in the wide world, it would appear—and added measurably to the collective volume and energy of the occasion. Dad Suttner had gone to considerable lengths to arrange one of those group telephone chats he so dearly loves, and the visit of Jini and Kinsi was intended to carry his much-belabored plans into effect. The much-touted phone conference finally took place around 1:30 p.m. (it was supposed to be at 1, our sources say, but an unnamed participant in California was late). The effect of this conversation, which cast the animated conversation of five of the most voluble Suttner declaimers against the backdrop of Julia’s and James’ unbridled squeals and giggles, was unmitigated chaos. David soon fell to thundering the conventional observations about the impossibility of his business achievements and his great good fortune at having married a woman like the former Mindy Reynolds. Faced with the mounting crescendo of the terrible toddlers in the background, however, David lost heart and hung up mid-sentence. The conversation ended, everyone went home—but not without the anguish of a tearful farewell between Julia and James. “I shall never love again,” Julia declared at bedtime from the perch of her daddy’s lap, a solitary tear falling on the open pages of The Pickwick Papers. In the background, Eli made gagging noises while flashing an impish grin.
After the girls went to bed, Justin and Lia settled into their newly-adopted “fun mode” for date night. The “fun” began with a rousing round of hopscotch. Lia won by the narrowest of margins (Justin was on 5 when she finished), and our sports correspondent believes there was some foul play involved in Justin’s choosing seven unsuitable rocks in succession (Lia’s supporters apparently rigged the rock bed by our house earlier in the day; Lia alone knew where the two good rocks were). Even so, Lia is to be commended for her balance and rock-tossing virtuosity. After hopscotch the couple tried a more cooperative venture involving a beach ball and something resembling volleyball. This worked well initially, but the Suttner in Lia kept insisting there must be some way she could win, even in an activity with no fixed rules and no ready means of keeping score. Daylight spent, the happy pair finally gave up on sport and consumed small quantities of ice cream while Justin pontificated concerning the universal order of things to his fair bride.

Saturday (8 July 2006):
We took a family drive through the Alpine Loop from Sundance to American Fork, breathing in all the dazzling scenery as we went and stopping at Cascade Springs and again on a lookout for a picnic. Julia loved the trees and mountains and clean air; Eli, though she feigned sleeping for much of the trip, was right in her element, basking in the radical spirit that the dashing Robert Redford has sprinkled over that entire area of God’s earth.
In the evening, as a continuation of her sinister plot to consolidate her stature of Julia’s favorite aunt, Jini took Julia on another date (outrageous, Caci, we know). They ate grilled cheese sandwiches and ice cream and Julia charmed the dickens out of Jini’s roommates. Before bedtime, worried that Julia might forget all about her other aunts and uncles in the wake of Jini’s monopolistic gestures, we quizzed her with a series of flashcard pictures. Sadly, she has forgotten about Caci and Trevor. We repeatedly showed her a picture of the California couple, but the only words we could get out of Julia’s mouth sounded something like “Tómkrüz.” We couldn’t make anything out of it, but she occasionally hummed the Mission Impossible theme.

Sunday (9 July 2006):
Dear Reader, we must leave you to your happy slumbers on the most positive of notes by announcing in trumpet tones the glorious victory of our Italian stalwarts over the French foe. Zidane’s red card in the extra session was only the latest incarnation of all that has gone wrong in that once-great nation since the disturbances of 1789. And so we bid thee once more, fair reader, sweet dreams.